7 Ch7-I Wish I Had a TV in My Pajamas

Chapter 7 I Wish I Had a TV in My Pajamas We went to the vomitorium for lunch. I sat with Ryan and Michael. Andrea and her annoying friend Emily were at the next table. I had a peanut butter and jelly sand- wich. Michael had a ham sandwich. Ryan had a wichsand, which is a sandwich

with the meat on the outside and the bread in the middle. Ryan invented the wichsand. He should get the No Bell Prize. Which president are you gonna be for your oral report? Michael asked. I'm gonna be James Garfield, Ryan said, because I like Garfield the cat. I'm gonna be Herbert Hoover, said Michael, because he was named after a vacuum cleaner. I think the vacuum cleaner was named after him, I said. What about you, A.J., asked Ryan. Which president are you gonna be? I don't know yet, I told the guys. But it would be cool to be president for real.

Nobody can tell him what to do! I'll bet the president can stay up late, even on school nights. I'll bet he can eat candy anytime he wants, Ryan said. And he doesn't have to brush his teeth. I'll bet he doesn't even have to make his bed, I said, or clean up his room or feed his fish. I'll bet he can watch TV in his pajamas all day if he feels like it, Michael said. The president has a TV in his paja- mas? I asked. That's cool! I noticed that Andrea and Emily kept turning around and giggling. Girls are always giggling. Andrea and Emily were probably talking about girly stuff like

smelly perfume and how many pairs of shoes they have. We boys have more important stuff to talk about, like whether or not the president has a TV in his pajamas. We ignored them. Our conversation was none of their beeswax anyway. Do you think Mr. Macky was telling the truth when he said Abraham Lincoln had to write on a shovel? I asked the guys.

Lincoln should have used a com- puter, said Ryan. It's much easier to write on. Yeah, but you can't use a computer to dig a hole, Michael pointed out. Well, you can't check your e-mail on a shovel, Ryan said. You could check your e-mail if you had a shovel with a built-in computer, I told them.

The lunch lady, Ms. LaGrange, told us it was time to clean off our trays. Andrea and Emily walked by our table. Boys are dumbheads, Andrea said.